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He wakes up. The massacre at the school in Kenya has been forgotten about. The pilot that crashed his plane into a mountain full of people has been forgotten about. The apple watch is the talk of the day. It is popular. A man has been shot by a policeman for running away from a policeman whilst black. The policeman is being hung out to dry by the police force and turned into a bad apple so that we can ignore the rotten barrel and the rotten tree that grew the wood for the barrel and the rotten tree that grew the rotten apples from the rotten ground. Everything is rotten. He has a coffee and he draws some pictures and he things about cuddling. Cuddling makes the rottenness of the world more palatable. He then learns about periscope and meerkat and live streaming from phones and everyone is live streaming everything and soon hovering drones will livestream our lives hovering with us by law and social convention filming and recording when we sleep and shit and die. Then he has another coffee and imagines a glass of wine and Octavia’s Brood arrives in his postbox and he is excited about reading short stories that he helped fund and the quality of the book is good and the quality of the writing is great and he is happy. Then he reads more about the 100 years war and it seems that it was a war that was initially fought in the courts by lawyers but then this interpretation is no doubt because the writer is a British Judge and then he eats some food and then he hope there is a future for children but then he sees robots and genetically modified creatures roaming a post-apocalyptic desert not sure what their purpose is or why they are there or what they are doing and then he eats some chocolate eggs and then he goes to sleep.

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